


Eyes Closed

by antsha_lora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coping, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Memories, One Shot, Post-Break Up, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 19:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17668718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antsha_lora/pseuds/antsha_lora
Summary: Thoughts of a young woman struggling to rediscover lost things in the wake of a painful break-up.





	Eyes Closed

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever. I'm excited to post this. It's short and a little dark. I had the song Eyes Closed by Halsey stuck in my head and this little Oneshot came of it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own JK's Wizarding World nor any of her characters and I don't make any money from this.
> 
> Enjoy! =)

* * *

I know this. It’s just like a dance. I am used to it. Practised movements. Feelings I am used to. Average feelings. Feelings I crave but never seem to reach. They always fall short. They are nice. They are a habit. They are never quite right. 

I need more. They never understand. They never know what to do. So I send them away or they leave on their own. They never stay. They never do. They are never right. They are never…great. 

**o.O.o.**

I lie in my bed, alone. Eyes open staring at the ceiling. Another one has left. I have been lying awake since he walked out. He hadn’t felt right either. He looked good. Firm body, lined with muscles. Straight teeth. I always check the teeth. Nice hair. Hard lines in his face. Handsome. Inviting, yet dangerous at the same time. Just not enough. Not like…

I blink. I pause. I resume. 

He had dark eyes. Too dark. Not deep, never deep. Always the wrong colour. I never seem to be able to make myself look for the right ones. Eyes that were wrong. They held nothing of the intimacy I crave. Nothing of-…

I blink. I pause. I resume. 

His hair was wrong. Wrong colour. Wrong length. Wrong feel. Soft but not soft enough. Long but not long enough. Bright but not bright enough. I sigh. His hair didn’t tickle. Too short. His hair didn’t feel right. Too rough. I love _yo_ -….

I blink. I pause. I resume. 

His voice was deep. Not deep enough. It was soft. Still too hard, not velvet. It was stimulating. Not sensual. Not arousing. Not right. Not enough. I miss-…

I blink. I pause. I resume. 

He had strong arms that I had imagined would feel…right. They hadn’t. Too hard, too warm, too big. The hair on his arms too dark. Too coarse. Not quite right. Not like…

I blink. I pause. I resume. 

His hands. I had hoped his hands were right. They weren’t. They didn’t know what to do. They didn’t feel right. They didn’t know how to touch. They didn’t move with the right motion. They didn’t have the right pressure. They weren’t _your_ -….

I blink. I pause. I resume. 

His movements were practised. In and out. In and out. Nice. Comfortable. Nothing special. Nothing earth-shattering. Not mind blowing. Barely getting me off. Still, he tried. Not all of them do. _You_ always-…

I blink. I pause. I resume. 

His penis was long but thin. Not feeling right. Not fitting well. Not like _yours_ -…

I blink. I pause. 

I get up. 

I have been lying awake for two hours now. My alarm will go off in another two. I decide to take a shower and review today’s case while I have my morning tea. I shove my musings to the back of my mind. 

I take my time getting ready. The day should be more promising than the night. It always is. My job is what I had always dreamed of. I couldn’t be more successful, couldn't be happier in my professional life. 

I couldn’t be more unhappy in my personal. 

**o.O.o.**

After work, I make my way home to get ready again. I change into tight black pants, my trusty high heels, and a dark green blouse. I let my curls down and shake them out. I don’t apply makeup. It just gets smudged. I nod to myself in the mirror and leave. 

I frequent muggle bars. They don’t know who I am. They don’t know what I am. I can be free. 

**o.O.o.**

I found one again. He is tall. Almost tall enough. He has soft hands. I feel them on my waist when he guides me out of the bar. It feels promising. His voice is rough. Arousing? We will see. His eyes are brighter than most. Not quite bright enough. His hair is short. I ignore it. 

I lead him to my apartment. He compliments me. He has done so all evening. His choice of words was flattering. I enjoyed them. I look at him again. 

His face is chiselled. It seems hard. I like it. I feel myself getting excited. He looks dangerous. Enough? His hands, his face, they seem to fit. He might be right. 

But they never are.

He isn’t either. 

He is too fast. He doesn’t say the right things anymore. The words are wrong. His eyes are wrong. They are shallow. Still too dark. He is too hectic. Barely any foreplay. Barely any teasing. He wants to enter me. He chases his own pleasure. He tries to make it good for me. He is inept. He touches wrong. He circles wrong. He doesn’t know where. He doesn’t know how much pressure. He doesn’t know. 

His penis is average sized. Shorter. He doesn’t know how to use it right. The usual in an out. Nothing else. Nothing more. His cock is not beautiful. 

Not like _yours_. 

_You_ are right. 

You know how to touch. You know what to say. You know when to touch. You know how to use your cock. Yours is long and thick. Yours fits perfectly. Yours feels right. 

Your eyes are mesmerizing. Your eyes hold me captive. Your eyes are bright. Your eyes are deep. Fathomless. Your eyes share everything with me. Your eyes are right. 

Your hair falls around my face. Your hair is the right colour. Bright enough. Long enough to tickle. Your hair feels soft. I love your hair. 

Your voice is deep. Just deep enough. Your voice is velvet, soft. Your voice is arousing. Your voice sends me over the edge. Your voice can make me do anything. Your voice is just right. You know what to say. You know how to say it. 

Your arms feel strong. Your arms feel save. Your arms hold me. Your arms are right. 

Your hands are soft yet still hard. Your hands know what to do. Your hands feel right. Your hands know how to touch. Your hands move with the right motion. Your hands have the right pressure. 

Your movements are practised but sure. You know how to move in me. Your pace varies. Long, deep thrusts. Fast, slow. Shallow with the perfect friction. Twists and tilts. Your cock, the perfect size, the perfect fit. Stretching me deliciously. More than nice. Almost uncomfortable. Earth shattering. Mind-blowing. Getting me off more than once. More than satisfying. 

I look at him moving above me. He is not you. He can never be. But I know where to lie. I know what to say. It is all the same. I know how to play. I know this game. 

If I keep my eyes closed he looks just like you. He won’t stay. They never do. They always leave. If I keep my eyes closed he feels just like you. 

I am trying to replace you. I am face to face with someone new. 

He finishes and has the audacity to ask me if I got off. 

_You_ would know. 

I tell him I didn’t. He doesn’t know how to react. He didn’t expect me to not have finished. 

He is not _you_. 

I kick him out. He seems offended. I don’t care. 

I haven’t replaced you. I cannot find someone new. 

I get up to wash him off of me. I let myself miss you. Your absence is painful. Still. 

**o.O.o.**

It takes a long time for me to fall asleep after my shower. My thoughts are circling around you. 

Nights are always the worst. 

**o.O.o.**

It has been a week. A week since I last tried to replace you. It will never work. I would have given you everything, anything. You decided against me. 

How can I move on?

I would have been there for you. I would have cared for you. You could have been happy with me. We could have been happy. You decided I wasn’t enough. 

**o.O.o.**

I shut off my alarm and get up to get ready for work. My thoughts are focused on the case, on my strategy, on the accused. 

I make my way towards the courtroom to face the Wizengamot. Another case. Another prosecution. Another opportunity to show how good I am at my job. 

The Wizengamot is in session. I prepare myself to step in front of them. I look up and I lock eyes with you.

It is time again. 

“Miss Granger. You may begin.” _You_ nod to me. 

“Mr Malfoy.” I nod in return and take the floor.


End file.
